


3088

by SageMarshallWorks



Category: Original Work
Genre: Gen, Gore, Guns, Original Character(s), Original Universe, Original work - Freeform, Science Fiction, galaxy, original - Freeform, space, space travel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-10-15
Updated: 2014-10-18
Packaged: 2018-02-21 06:33:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,552
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2458355
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SageMarshallWorks/pseuds/SageMarshallWorks
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A band or rouges scour the galaxy for means to keep themselves alive.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The planet Demeter, once known as Earth, is the pride of the Helio system. Her silver moon, Persephone, orbits the watery world with in constant motions. In the year 2758, Demeter joined the Federation of Intelligent Planetary Systems, soon followed by the ice world of Crathet and the mysterious archipelago world known as Trathan, with 27 natural satellites in orbit.

Much has changed on the planet, however, and the urbanization of its continents grew at an exponential rate. Small, rural towns were transformed into vast metropolises with skyscrapers that actually do what their name implies, cutting through the layers of clouds. In 2761 Demeter changed their political outlook from a country based government to a planetary one. The entire globe was set under the rule of a democratically elected official.

Trouble struck this facade of a utopia in the year 3088. Civil war let loose across Demeter, due to the current president. Most claim him to be a dictator, comparing him to classic men such as Stalin and Mussolini. A rogue group of soldier, known as the Knights of Justice tirelessly slaughter thousands of Demetrian Troops everyday in the name of freedom.

In one of Demeter's mile high skyscrapers, Aimi Mottainai sat at the dinner table with her father, Cress. She was an elegant woman, about 21 years old with a fragile figure. Her silky black hair was kept in a long, detailed braid. It was apparent she got her looks from her mother, Cress Mottainai was a plump man in his late sixties. He was balding slightly, but it didn't bother him. He compensated by draping himself in elegant clothing.

The extravagant parlor room shuck with faint signs of war, the crystal chandelier swung back and forth. Cress's bright, yet stern eyes narrowed on his daughter.

"Don't be scared, Aimi." He instructed.

She looked back at him, lifting her gaze from the plate, "I'm not afraid.”

He smiled at her, “that’s my brave little girl. You’re mother would be proud…”

Aimi dropped her fork on the spotless porcelain and shook. Cress leaned in, as if he didn’t know what the problem was. “She could’ve told me that herself… if you were able to stop her from enlisting.”

“Her decisions are not my own, Aimi!”

She snarled back, “I don’t give a fuck what your excuse is! This war killed my mother!”

Cress thought of for a moment, leaning back in his leather seat, distancing himself from the insubordination across from him; through a shaking voice he was able to convey, “my wife died too, Aimi… maybe if you thought about someone other than yourself for once-”

Aimi couldn’t let him finish before scoffing at that concept, “like it was you who raised me!”

“Damnit, Aimi I…” Cress heard the clanking of metal feet against the tiled floor, forcing him to stop his rebuttal. A metallic bot designed by his company, holding a silver platter with beverages in elaborate glasses emerged from the corridors.  

“Sir and madame,” it started, “ would either of you care for a refreshment?”

“No,” he blurted, keeping his eyes away from the table, “we’re in the middle of something.”

“Acknowledged.” It politely responded as it stepped away.

Aimi’s silver eyes shot back at her father’s before standing up, “actually we’re done here.” She grabbed one of the green drinks in the long stemmed glasses from the tray and sulked off.

“Re-acknowledged.” The bot informed.

It was cold on the balcony, Aimi’s blue gown flowed in the wind as she sipped her drink. Her elbows pressed against the glass railing, overlooking a seven-hundred story drop to the city life below. The view around her was serene and quiet, as if so far from the war, but the rumbling fro  earlier was a testament to that reassuring thought. Behind the building where her suite rested was the distinct glow of fire and death.

She too one more sip of her drink, polishing it off before admiring the scenery one more. It wasn’t so serene this time, however. The luminescent skyline was blocked by a huge combat fighter, aerodynamic and bulky. The monstrosity ripped through the glass walkways that connected buildings like it was tissue paper. A whirlwind of debris soared around Aimi; she was knocked to the ground, shattered glass around her.

“Aimi!” shouted a rough voice from behind. Her vision was blurry and hearing temporarily shot, but she knew it was her father, standing in the framework of what used to be the entrance to their penthouse. “Aimi! Get up, it’s time to go!”

She was disappointed, gasping and demanding answers. Cress lifted her on her feet, “The building was hit hard! We need to get out before the whole thing comes down!” Once on her feet they made their way through the trembling parlor to the door on the other side.

It swing open to let the duo pass into the hallway, mixing with the stampede of Demetran elite. The lights flickered in the corridor, bringing with it the shrieks and shouts of terrified civilians. The elevator was on the other side of the building. Cress and Aimi pushed through the crowd; Aimi, still dizzy from her fall, tripped over her own feet on every other step.

The gold doors to the elevator were blocked with a sea of people trying to board, after about four trips it was their turn to crowd in. They stood in silence down the side of the tall building with seventeen other people of different species and creeds. An alien with large eyes and pointed ears with braided hair coating their bodies, an old woman with fish gills and fins on her neck recites a prayer while clutching a rosary.

“Zet al oh kateem… zet al oh kateem… zet al oh kateem…” She repeated to herself.

The glass walls showed the destruction of the once pristine city, smoke billowing into the air. The holographic advertisements on the sides of building barely visible. A faint corona of orange lit the dark sky. Differing vessels soared through the black sky firing missiles and turrets at one another. A bulky gunship, hit on the rear propeller, crashed onto the roof of one of the distant towers. The doors finally opened in the lobby. The father-daughter team waited in back for the elevator to clear before making their escape.

The streets were smoggy and war torn, with flaming embers littering the air like stars in the night sky. A squadron of several rebels ran buy, all different species, sexes, and orientations wearing their distinct uniform of a black jacket and gray pants with black combat boots. In their hands were heavy black rifles on straps. A thin layer of glass covered their face, it was a gasmask with a rubber cord stemming from the mouthpiece to a contraption strapped to their belts.

One stops the others and holds his gun to Aimi and Cress. “Who do you side with?” He asked. Cress asked for him to repeat the question but was met immediately with a cold look. “We’ll ask only one more time. What is your alignment?!”

Aimi looked to her father and stuttered. Another stepped up from the line of soldiers and aimed her rifle. “Answer the fucking question, you rich bitch!”

Aimi scanned her surroundings quickly, Cress was too panicked to even wipe the sweat from his brow. Immediately Aimi noticed the crest they all bore on their lapels, of a planet rising behind a sun with two swords to border it. This was the emblem of the Knights of Freedom. “We believe in the rebel’s cause, sir!”

“They’re clear.” The girl in the back reassured her comrades, making a motion with her hands until they pass up two spare gasmasks. “Take these. There’s a transport just a few miles down the street at the spaceport. It’s evacuating the city.”

They strapped the masks to their faces, thanked the troops and made for the direction of the transport. Running through the debris ridden streets Aimi began to fill with regret, remorse, and sorrow. “Dad,” she stopped dead in her tracks, “I’m sorry.”

He turned to look at her with annoyance, “Aimi, this is not the time.”

“Dad,” She continued,”I was saying horrible things to you--” her apology was interrupted by the sound of rapid gunshots behind them.

“C’mon!” Cress ordered.

They continued to move through the streets. Fierce fire began to crawl up the buildings like vines. After a few minute of tirelessly sprinting, they made it to the barbed wire fence that blocked off the massive ship. It was like an ocean liner, designed to sail the void of space.

The gate was guarded by two rebels, meticulously scanning the refugees begging to board. The tall guard fires into the air, calming the crown after a second of terror. “Attention! We are only allowing women and children aboard at this time.”

Mummering began to gather with the crowd as it began to thin. Aimi pushed to the front with every intention of picking a fight, “that’s not fair!” She screamed. Cress tried to stop her but was overpowered.

“Ma’am, please listen--”

“Let us both on, you cow!” Her voice began to shriek.

Cress put his hand on her shoulder, “Aimi, I’ll take the next one.” He reassured.

The officers exchanged looks and gestured for her to move through or step aside. At this moment, rifle fire blared in the distance once more, much closer than before. The crowd dispersed as quickly as possible, a few not making it passed the initial wave of bullets. The two guards pushed Aimi aside and raised their guns in vein. They were instantly shot down, splattering their blood against the pavement. A group of soldiers emerge from the fog. They were dressed in black jumpsuits and caps reminiscent of World War II era German officers.

“Aimi! Run!” Cress shouted at the top of his lungs, this time Aimi listened. She passed through the gate and was met with rebel officers who pushed her forward.

“Daddy!” She screamed as she looked back towards her father. Cress was knocked to his knees with the barrel of a thick run aimed right at his balding head.

“Aimi…” He begun, watching as she was restrained by rebels. She tried desperately to reach her father, to no avail. The black suited officer nodded, issuing an order to pull the trigger. With a bang, Cress’s crimson blood hit the ground hard. His bloody body fell shortly after with a thud.

“Nooo!!!” Aimi screamed as she was forced up the ramp and into the ship. Tears streamed down her red cheeks, her glossy eyes lay witness to her father’s limp corpse left in the street.

The troops began to exchange fire the second he died. “Go! Get her outta here!” On ordered. The ship’s ramp began to raise and the blast doors closed. Aimi saw what was left of her dad whisked away with the closing of the doors. The room around her began to shake and after a moment or two in blasted into the hazy sky.

Aimi, tears and all, found herself walking into the main storage room, which was being used to house refugees. They were being issued blankets and drinks by bots, as medics treated the more serious injuries. She waded through the sea of people, dripping in sweat and blood, not all hers. After a long while of searching for nothing, like her father would magically be among the refugees, she sat herself in a close corner of the room.

She curled herself into a tight ball, protecting herself from the dangers of human contact. After about a half hour of silence she was greeted by a service bot. “Are you in need of any assistance?” It beckoned.

Aimi stared at it blankly, expecting it to say something or just go away. It was a walking reminder of pain; across its chest plate was the logo for Mottainai Enterprises, her family’s company. “I’m fine.” She finally whispered.

The bot began to leave her in peace until it was stopped, “wait!” She called. “Do you have anything sharp?” The bot focused on her and gladly obliged the request.

After the tiresome practice of exchanging pleasantries with a machine Aimi was in possession of a sharp box cutter the bot had on its toolbelt. One slice with the shimmering object and her life would change, it would be different, she would be free. She glared at it intensely, then slowly moved it towards her wrist. One swift movement is all it’s take.

Tears streamed down her face again as she lowered the tool. Her hands shook with fear, she raised it again but this time to her head. Aimi grabbed her long braid, the silky strands lay in her hands. With one strike she cut it clean off, letting her hair in a choppy, long, bob. AImi held the severed appendage, her vision blurred with sadness. She collapsed in on herself and was lulled to sleep by the gentle hum of the engine.

  
  
  
  



	2. Chapter 2

The monstrous craft hurdled through the darkness before coming into view of the red planet, Mars. Although Mars is under the Demetran empire, the war has yet to strike it. It lay protected as humanity’s first step towards galactic colonization. The rusted terrain lay barren except for the cities, located in the northern hemisphere. Giant skyscrapers with arching canopies of glass that shield the streets from the atmosphere. The cities have regenerative oxygen due to the high build up of Demetran trees brought by the first settlers.

Aimi’s transport broke through the atmosphere, setting itself down on the shielded landing pad on the planet’s surface. Steam bursty from the landing gear as it touched down, with the ramp shortly following, letting the passengers onboard  take their first steps on solid ground since they left about twelve hours ago. 

The girl, so far away from home, stumbled out with the rest of the passengers. She’d slept nearly the whole way; the tears had dried to her cheeks. She saw people checking through customs and quickly decided to join them. The attendants quickly scanned the person’s body, stamped their passport and welcomed them to Mars’s most populated city. Most people carry their passports with them at all times. One never knows when they might need to flee a location. Aimi ignored the smiling woman who stamped her pass and moved forward. The rusty sky had beat down hard all day and it was now time for the two moons to take their place above the city.

People lined up around corners and across blocks, waiting for entry into exclusive clubs and restaurants. All that went through Aimi’s mind at that moment was food, where to get some and how. She stood in awe in front of one of the street vendors, blocking the path until a local pushed her out of the way. He was tall, green, and pissed, “Fuck off, tourist!”  Her watery eyes could only stare down the man as he walked away. 

Around the square were bright monitors and adverts, almost demanding people to buy their product. Aimi scanned the world around her until grazed over an alien food merchant, who was oblivious to the figure behind him. The figure reached for the money in his cart but with a whiff of disorder the merchant spun around and grabbed their wrist. “Let me go, you bastard!” A deep voice cried out. 

Aimi pushed past the crowd, moving closer and closer to the struggling person, who was more easily distinguished from close up, a strong black woman in her mid-thirties with a very close cut hairstyle verging on buzzcut. She wore a loose fitting, black flight suit with high boots and two pistols strapped to her belt.  

The vendor looked her dead in the eyes, “ Chi’kai!’ He started in his native tongue, “Monatiss lov’oray chet und we’varon!!” The woman reached for the black handgun strapped to her side with her free hand. 

“Ai!” Aimi yelled, halting the struggle. She was standing in between them now. “ Kall’esst enteer mo’roray!” She had no idea what she was doing. This foolish act of intervention could cost Aimi her life and she knew that. 

The brute behind the cart looked at her with a puzzled expression. It’s not everyday one meets a Demetran-Human fluent in Abris. “Che kazzi?” He questioned her. 

With a determined face Aimi stepped closer to the man, “Lo’ren takest,” she stopped, hesitating for only a moment, “nor’eerum.” He relinquished his grasp on the thief almost immediately. The woman pushed herself passed the bulky merchant and stood at Aimi’s side. They walked for a moment in silence, after excusing themselves from the conflict, before the woman finally spoke up. 

“Thank you,” she started, “not everyone would risk their life to save a thief's.”

Aimi looked at her, still keeping her dull pace, “It was nothing. I studied alien cultures and language at university back home.” 

“I take it you’re Demetran.” The woman proposed, her clothes being a dead give away. 

“Yeah…” 

After a short moment of awkward silence and walking through dense crowds the thief asked, “what’d you say to him, by the way?” 

“Nothing too important,” She responded humbly, “I just told him you were drunk and I’d escort you home.” 

The woman grinned, “I appreciate it. So you’re from Demeter? I hear it’s gorgeous… or it  was  before the war. Me? I like to consider myself nomadic. The name’s Captain Chase Hazzener.” 

The two shook hands respectfully until Aimi beckoned the question, “Do you own a ship?” 

Chase smiled, “I inherited the ship from my mother. She was a freelance trader from the Seth system. I grew up on that ship. My crew and I pick up jobs here and there, try to make ends meet anyway we can. It’s docked in the southern hanger; do you want me to take you there? We have some food… you look hungry.” 

Aimi looked into Chase’s smoky eyes with admiration, she was the first person to be kind to her since she had arrived. They continued to walk, Aimi not need say a word, Chase was leading her to the ship. Aimi could not be more grateful, though she didn’t have the strength to show it. 

The ground was cold and barren, paved with simple, white cement from the city square through the long aisles of foot trafficked road. Aimi and her new companion walked over the cracking floor, dodging city dwellers who thought it above them to be courteous. 

They soon made it to the southern hanger, behind the metal doors was a bulking frigate, about half the size of a football field. Its aerodynamic shape hid the ship’s three levels well. A boarding ramp extended from the starboard hull. The antiquated ship had wires and scraps coming out every which way, but it still seemed usable and reliable. 

Aimi’s face lit up. It wasn’t the ship’s beauty that made her gasp but rather the simple fact that she felt welcomed to this junker. “What’s her name?” She intrigued. 

Chase looked at her confused, “Who said anything about ‘she?’ Why must we assign a gender to an inanimate object?” She leaned her shoulder on the side, “Mom called it The Idris. It’s old but trustworthy… you just gotta have patience.”    
A scoff came from within the ship. Both women turned their heads to the ramp as a young man, about 18, revealed himself, fidgeting with a screwdriver in his hands. “Says the woman who hit the control panel with a wrench the other day because it wouldn’t take off.” 

“Aimi, this is our mechanic, Jan Preston. Jan, this is Aimi.” The kid smirked and offered a hand. He was of medium height and neither fat nor skinny, his blonde hair was kept spiky and swept to the side. He stepped further into the light, showing now his attire: a blue cloak with gold trim along the edges. At the collar were four brass buttons that Jan left undone. He was it over his brown pants and baggy white shirt.    
“Nice to meet you, Aimi. But Captain Chase is mistaken. I’m her ‘supervising mechanic.’” 

Chase rolled her eyes, “He’s my mechanic. I caught the little punk trying to chop shop my ship on Karris.” The two continued to banter on, back and forth for a bit as Aimi tried to keep a relaxed composure. 

“Is it too watery for you?” Chase asked, as she placed a bowl of strange canned meat in front of Aimi. They sat at the booth in the ship’s galley after leaving Jan to his work. The galley itself was surprisingly warm for the interior of a frigate. Aimi’s spoon played with the milky meal before reluctantly taking her first bite. “I’m sorry, that’s all we have. The crew should be back soon with supplies, then Zander can whip you up something. He’s our resident chef, I think you’d like him.” Aimi smiled as she continued to shovel in the food. 

Chase leaned back in the booth and kicked her feet up, the black combat boots tracking mud onto the seat, not that it was clean beforehand. “So, Aimi, you got anywhere to stay?” She stumbled over her words for a moment, mainly trying tell her that she was virtually homeless. Chase smirked, “I thought so. Why don’t you join us, as our foreign life expert? You took those classes, let’s put them to good use.”    
Aimi meekly looked down, ‘I...I don’t…” 

“Look, Aimi, it’s either this or a life of slumming it on the streets. By the looks of that pretty dress you won't last a day.” Chase stares at her, as if she knew Aimi doesn’t have much of a choice. After a second of discomfort Aimi finally cracked a smile. 

Three different pairs of shoes hit the rubber grips of the boarding ramp. On the far left was a tall, proper individual with their hair wrapped in a traditional headdress of their people. The detailed scarf folded neatly around their neck and down their back. On the far right was pretty young woman with medium length strawberry-blonde hair. Her honey eyes seemed to glow as she entered the dim light of The Idris. The man in the middle was rough and tall. His shaved head was covered by a gray military hat. 

They all entered the ship, making small talk with one another. They did this, through the halls until they reached the galley. They opened the doors to see a new face at the table. “Captain, who’s this?” The individual in the headdress asked.

Chase gestured towards Aimi, “Nex, this is Aimi Mottainai, our new foreign life expert.” 

They smiled at her, “Nice to meet you, Aimi. My name’s Nex Astor, I’m the ship’s navigator.” They greeted each other before Chase spoke up. 

“Kara,” the captain called, “can you show Aimi to the crew’s quarters?” 

She smiled, standing up straight in attention. “Yes, captain!” She helped Aimi out of her seat and began to gesture at the tall man beside her. “I’m Kara Tate and this is my husband Cad!” They all made pleasantries as Kara began to show her out. 

“What do you two do around here?” 

Cad responded enthusiastically, “We serve as scouts!”

The doors to the crew’s quarters swung open when they get there. A row of four bunk beds light the far wall with two parallel to them. Sitting on her unmade bed in the corner was a young woman, twenty-five years old, reading from a tablet. Her dark hair was kept in a loose bun with a majority of her sharp bangs covering her heavily makeuped eyes. Her blue tanktop and cargo pants made her the most underdressed crewmen so far. 

“Darius!” Kara called cheerfully, “Darius, this is our new foreign life expert, Aimi.” 

Darius smiled deviously, “So you think you’re an expert?” She asked. “What’s the third planet from the blue star, Alpha-138?” 

Aimi hesitated for a moment, looking back at Kara and Cad in confusion before blurting out, “Lestia. The answer is Lestia.” 

Darius gave a look of amusement. Her smile pressed against her freckled cheeks which bridged over her nose. As she walked off she looked back, “The top bunk’s mine.” The doors shut behind her. 

“I’m sorry, Aimi!” Kara cried out, “I should’ve warned you, she can be sorta…” 

“Bitchy?” Aimi filled in. “I don’t mind it. It’s good to know you’re unwelcomed. So how many more people do I have the pleasure of meeting on this bucket?” 

Two figures approached from outside the ship. One being a snakelike, foreign man in his early thirties with deep crimson skin and wide eyes. He finished the last of his drink with one big gulp and tossed it on the ground. The glass shards scattered the floor, nearly hitting the man beside him, an elderly humanoid with a potbelly. His gray skin was near hairless, despite the dark hair on his head, which was kept in a  ponytail and shaved at the sides into an undercut. He had gills on his neck and small fins where his ears would be. 

“Watch it!” The elder yelled. 

“My apologies, Zander.” The other man whimpered, “Why don’t you get aboard, I’ll clean this up.”Zander smiled at him before running aboard The Idris.

The serpentine scoffed at the glass and headed towards the entrance until he saw something move behind the ramp. “Hello?” He called. In that moment a shadow emerged from under the ship, keeping to the darkness. 

“Have you made your decision yet, Ren?” it whispered, trying to stay unnoticed by anyone else.  

He merely kept going, not thinking much of the consequences, “ Whatever…” 

The second he stepped foot inside the ship he’s greeted by Chase. “Hey, Ren!”

He stopped dead, “Don’t tell me…” 

“What?”

He sighed, “Whenever you give me that look it means you have something to tell me, and it’s usually bad news.”

“You think everything is bad news.” She laughed.

“For good reason…”  

“Just trust me on this one!”

He shook his head, walking into the ship towards the galley, “I do trust you.” 

The doors to the galley open for Ren and Chase to reveal the crew talking with Aimi. It took Ren a moment to figure out what Chase was trying to show him, but he understood soon enough. “Another one?” 

Chase called Aimi over to introduce her to the ship’s co-pilot Ren Markus. “Aimi, here, is perfect for our alien life expert. We can’t keep going to random worlds without proper information, and let’s face it, you're linguistics are subpar… at best.” 

After Ren, forced by Chase, greeted Aimi, they headed straight to the cockpit. The small room was lit with a red light until Chase flipped a switch. The light turned green as she began to call orders over the loudspeaker. Ren issued a warning for the crew to strap in. Immediately after the ship lifted into the sky, it rocked and jolted, then shot forward. Once in orbit Chase hit a switch and pulled a lever. Everything, for a moment, looked as if it was receding, then the light around the ship grew dim; the Idris was launched into light speed away from mar


End file.
